I set up a Myspace account a while back not for my own purposes, but merely because I wanted to look at profiles of people I didn't really know that well to see if I had been missing anything. And it worked for quite a while. Procrastinator's dream. The ability to waste time in other people's business. This is good.
The plan worked perfectly... until today. I received a request for someone to be my friend. I've never been presented with this before. I missed the whole Friendster phenomenon... and I didn't need a list to deem who made the cut on the friend-o-meter back at Syracuse or prior to then.
Make me laugh = friend.
Feed me = friend.
First round's on you = friend.
First round's on me = dick.
I mean, for crying out loud... MySpace? Do I cave in and accept, knowing what kind of company I'll keep from here on out? I vote, for crying out loud. I've never seen Dave Matthews Band in concert, and my underwear's only a day old. I don't need MySpace.
Hell, I can barely keep up blogging.
pauseOh right. I blog.
Maybe proof that I do still have friends might not be so bad after all.